


But The Foundation Is Crumbling

by orphan_account



Series: Pizza Boxes and Unspoken Promises [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Here's the pizza boxes part of this series name, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Trans Keith (Voltron), friend group fic, i swear to god this is more lighthearted than these tags led you to believe, um the meme team strikes again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 09:12:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8244002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It’s the safest space they can be in together, piled in a car, eating pizza and backwash soda. No one to give them rules, no one to make fun of but themselves, no one to try and tell them all the things wrong with them.





	

They get food together enough after school and after clubs for it to be tradition. Everyone pitches in spare change to get one pizza and a two liter and maybe some fries if someone has a little extra money left. They’ll sit folded into Pidge’s older brother’s car that he left when he went to college, and laugh at each other and make toasts to random life events that don’t really warrant toasting.

Pidge drives for some reason that no one really questions. They’re too young to get a license, they don’t even have a permit yet, and they’re the safest driver of the whole bunch. They tried letting Lance drive, the one who actually has a license _and_ a car, but decided never again after seven near death experiences in the span of thirty minutes.

Keith has a license but no car of his own, and his foster family doesn’t trust him with either of theirs, so he’s not an option. Hunk doesn’t even want to touch the wheel of a car, motion sickness coupling with the anxiety of what could happen and what he could be responsible for. He always sits in the back, facing away from the windows.

They all belong to the low-budget VEX club that the school likes to forget about. Hunk and Pidge do most of the actual coding and building, while Keith and Lance shoot ideas off of each other. Mostly giant fighting robots that are in all reality impossible but they like to ignore that because Lance watched too much Evangelion this month and Keith watched a couple episodes with him.

They’ll talk shit on their classmates and their teachers. They’ll tease Pidge for being the youngest senior in their school, because who’s fourteen and graduating? They’ll tease Lance for his incredibly bad driving skills. “Straddle it,” they’ll continuously say after the one time he tried to go over a pothole and hit it dead on. “It was one time,” he insists, but no, the joke will never die.

Never.

Lance hates it because he’s actually not bad at avoiding potholes, he’s just shit at doing anything else.

It’s always weird when one of them isn’t there. The dynamic changes. The conversations don’t have the same flow. Everyone’s comfortable with each other, but the four of them are such a package deal that when one is gone, it’s noticeable.

The opposite is true too. When there’s more people, it doesn’t work as well. Everyone loves Shay, but the after school pizza hangouts are a sacred space. That day was awkward, even Shay agreed, and they haven’t tried it since.

It’s the safest space they can be in together, piled in a car, eating pizza and backwash soda. No one to give them rules, no one to make fun of but themselves, no one to try and tell them all the things wrong with them.

\---

“I’m just saying, if he asked, I would definitely suck Shiro’s dick.”

“Lance that’s gross.”

“Oh come on Pidge, like you wouldn’t?”

“No? He’s my teacher and I don’t even want to think about him like that. Also he’s like, my brother’s best friend and Matt has dibs before anyone, after Allura.”

“Hunk, back me up man.”

“I mean, sure, he’s attractive, but he’s a teacher, which takes his attractiveness down like ten notches. You can’t sleep with your teachers. Even thinking about it is kind of disgusting.”

“Keith, baby, honey, sweetums, please tell me you see my point.”

“For one I’m your boyfriend, so why would you think I would tell you I want to suck some other guy’s dick? And for two, Shiro’s like a brother mentor thing for me. Do you know how nasty that is?”

“Alright, it’s just me then.”

Lance takes a giant bite of his pizza. “I mean, it’s not like it would ever actually happen, y’know? So why is it so bad to think of,” he asks through a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni and red sauce. “Shiro’s like the embodiment of the ‘I saw a man so beautiful I started crying,’ meme.”

“You never know Lance. Maybe he has a thing for loudmouth teenagers who don’t know where to draw the line.”

“Haha very funny coming from an actual twelve year old.”

Pidge slams on the brakes, to the dismay of everyone in the car, Hunk clinging to Keith as he tries to control his gag reflex.

“What was that?”

“Pidge,” Keith says, holding onto Hunk in a similar fashion. “Please never do that again.”

“Y-yeah man. Unless you want pizza and grape soda soup all over the floor of your car.”

“I wonder what that would taste like,” Lance wonders, completely unphased by Pidge’s glare.

“If you want to find out, you can call me twelve again while I’m driving _your_ unskilled ass around.”

“No,” Hunk says. “Please Lance, don’t.”

“Fine, fine, I guess I can spare the upholstery of Matt’s car today.”

“Good,” Pidge says, finally stepping on the gas petal. “Now pizza me.”

Lance hold the pizza slice in front of their mouth as they driving around a corner, handing it to them once they’re on a stretch of straight road.

“Speaking of Matt, how’d he take the whole Pidge thing?”

They brighten up. “Really well. He promised not to mention anything to mom and dad until I told them myself. He didn’t call me Katie for the rest of the call.”

“Pidge that’s awesome! I bet your parents take it good too.”

“Hey, don’t get my hopes up, Leggy. They took Matt being gay good, but I don’t know how they are about the gender thing. Both of them are still kind of old fashioned.”

“You don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to,” Hunk says.

“I know,” they say, and they sound almost a little scared, and they lock eye contact with him in the mirror and grin. “But I want them to know exactly how gay their kids are.”

“Wait, you’re gay?” Lance says in a faux shocked voice. “Umm, I don’t know if I can be friends with a _gay._ ”

“Tell that to your boyfriend.”

He gasps. “That means _I’m_ gay.” He turns to Keith. “Baby, can you ever forgive me for being bisexual?”

“Fuck off,” he says, shoving the soda bottle in his face. “I’ve found a real man”

Keith drapes himself over Hunk and Hunk holds him closely. “But what will I tell Shay?”

“She doesn’t need to know. Let me be your gay side lover.”

“But Keith! I thought you loved me!”

“Hunk can give me the one thing you couldn’t.” Keith spits back at Lance. “Good cooking skills.”

Pidge yells an “Oh Shit!” and the car devolves into laughter.

\---

Next week, Pidge is in a mood. They snap at anyone who tries to contradict them and block out the world with big headphones. They turn the music up so loud that the person trying to talk to them can hear exactly what they’re listening to.

It’s a surprise to everyone when they text the group chat asking if everyone wants to get pizza after school.

It’s an even bigger surprise when they hand the keys to Lance.

“You’ve driven the car before and I don’t want to focus on anything,” they say. The other three share a look before getting into the vehicle.

Pidge takes Keith’s usual spot next to Hunk in the back, not bothering with a seatbelt and laying themself on top of him. Keith sits in the front, and it’s weird, this whole mismatched seating. Pidge slaps a ten dollar bill on the armrest in front of Lance and says to get whatever, that they don’t care.

They get what they usually get, a pizza and fries, and they get the two liter, but they also get Pidge their own soda.

Lance is careful while driving. This isn’t his car and he doesn’t want to upset Pidge any more than they already are.

When they’re almost to the river by Hunk’s house, Pidge finally speaks.

“I told my mom I wanted to be called Pidge.”

The rest of the car is silent. They all know how this is going to go.

Keith turns and takes their hand, Pidge pulling their glasses off with their free one. He understands best, they think, about rejection from the ones you trust. Having moved from house to house because of gender identity, Pidge feels bad burdening him with this when their mom’s letting them stay.

Keith seems to understand this too, and he squeezes their hand tightly. He was never the best with words, but Pidge feels the love.

“She—,“ they cough, frowning. “She said I was confused, that I still liked ‘girl’ stuff so I couldn’t—“

They swallow around a thick throat and Hunk places a hand in their hair, brushing through it gently.

“And _then_ she said that if I was going to be trans I needed to be a _boy_. I couldn’t be something in between because genders like that don’t exist. I tried b-but she didn’t—“

They shut their eyes tightly, trying not to cry in front of all the people they feel most comfortable with, and failing badly.

“She said I had to choose one o-or the other and I said I couldn’t because that’s- you can’t just _choose_ a-a-and she, she, she told me she was going to bed and she didn’t want to deal with it right then and—“

Hunk gives up trying to stifle his instincts and scoops them up in a hug and they cry. It’s loud and it’s angry and it’s ugly and they don’t feel any better about anything.

“Fuck her,” Lance says, and it’s low and venomous. His eyes are trained to the road and he’s gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. “She doesn’t get to dictate how you live your life.”

“She’s not—“

“Her telling you what you can and can’t be in your own fucking life is, Pidge. She can’t tell you who you _are_ I’m—,“ he devolves from words to angry noises and his driving’s getting more and more erratic.

Keith puts a hand on his shoulder and he visibly deflates, hands loosening their death grip on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry I’m just… all you parents piss me off.”

“She doesn’t understand it yet I just need to explain it to her more and maybe she’ll get it.”

“That’s the thing, Pidge. Parents are supposed to understand their kids and accept them for how they are, not the cookie cutter design that they wanted.”

“Lance,” Keith says in warning. “Maybe it’s not the best idea—“

“Don’t even get me started on your foster family, Mullet. If people are taking in kids to raise as their own, they need to be ready for something different than they expected! You’re afraid to go home. Family shouldn’t make you afraid. It should make you feel loved and safe and comfortable and- and, fuck. They’re definitely not doing any of that.”

The entire car is silent.

“Hunk, your parents aren’t off the table either.”

“What?” he asks, genuinely confused. “My parents love you? And you love my parents?”

“They pretend your anxiety doesn’t exist.”

“Lance, that’s not even that bi—“

“Oh no, it’s that big of a deal. It’s a part of you and they just pretend it’s not there and shove you into doing things that freak you out anyways. It’s all fucked. Everything’s fucking—,“ he starts grumbling to himself again, throwing his hands up in frustration before grabbing the wheel back quickly.

It’s a quiet, uncomfortable silence after that.

No one really has anything to say after that. They drop Hunk off at his house with uncomfortably mumbled goodbyes. Pidge takes their car back after dropping Keith and Lance at Lance’s house, and after that they drive around the city, not quite up to going home just yet. They tell their mom that they’re still hanging out with everyone as they sit in an abandoned park’s gravel lot listening to music too loud to be healthy.

They don’t get home until well after dark.

\---

“Lance, I can’t make you a fucking mech suit.”

“But Piiiiiiiiidge I wanna fight giant aliens with giant hand blasters.”

“Get in the fucking robot, Shinji,” Keith mumbles from behind his book.

“See? Keith agrees with me. Hunk?”

“What?”

“Give me the logistics of a mech suit.”

“I don’t think that’s how that words works,” Keith mumbles again, turning a page.

“Fucking- ugh tell me how it would work.”

“Um, with our supplies?” He gestures around their workspace, small, cramped, grossly underfunded. “It wouldn’t.”

“Ha!” shouts Pidge, slamming their hand down.

“But like, what if we weren’t the most trash club in the school? What about then?”

“We’re talking lots and lots of parts that the school would never sign off on, and even if they did, they would never let us build a giant hand blaster robot out of an anime.”

“But Hunk,” Lance leans in close. “What if they did?”

“If they did,” Pidge pipes in. “I certainly wouldn’t be building one for you first.”

“What if we had a bunch of smaller robots that merged into one giant robot?”

“That would be sick as fuck but completely unreasonable.”

“I don’t know,” Hunk says, pulling out a relatively clean piece of paper and a pencil. “If they connected in the right way, it could feasibly work. The people would have to be completely in sync with pushing the right controls, though, or the whole thing could literally fall apart.”

“Well that should be fine! We’re all pretty in sync, right Keith?”

Keith, in fact, isn’t even listening to the conversation they’re having, he’s doing his best not to fall asleep while he’s got his head on his arms. He’s given up on the book entirely and at this point he’s lucky he can open his eyes enough to see the rest of them.

“Wha-?”

“Awwww, is Keithy sweepy?” Pidge taunts from across the table.

“Mmmmhn,” is all he says in reply, flipping them off.

He’s still lucid enough to come up with complete thoughts, but just past the edge of out of it that takes his filter away.

“Can I stay at your house tonight?” he asks, taking Lance’s hand in his own.

“Tonight? It’s a school night, man. You know how my mom is about that.”

“Mmm,” he says, closing his eyes again. “Don’t wanna go home tonight.”

This feels like a private moment to Pidge and Hunk, like they’re trespassing on something fragile that isn’t meant for them. But it’s so rare that Keith talks about his home in front of them that they’re too curious to ignore it. Pidge sets down their tools and Hunk chews on the end of his pencil.

“Why?” Lance asks. “What happened?”

“Last night was a bad night,” Keith murmurs. “Dad said some stuff about you and how bad of an influence you are and mom found a pair of boxers and freaked out. Then they tried to go through my room and I might have locked them out and pissed them off more. I’m not really sure.”

He makes a sleepy noise and spins his thumb around Lance’s, who, at the moment, looks like he wants to stab something. Hunk clears his throat and Lance snaps his attention to him.

“Your mom won’t say no to him, you know that. She’s not gonna send him back home tonight.”

Lance seems to relax a little, turning back to Keith. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re right. Hey,” he nudges Keith a little to wake him up. “You can stay tonight.”

Keith smiles. His thank you is cut off by a yawn.

“And that, my nerds, is our cue to leave. C’mon.” He pulls Keith up, who looks angry at being so abruptly moved.

“See y’all tomorrow.”

Pidge and Hunk try to refocus, but it’s Pidge who breaks first.

“Ughhhhhh it’s no fun without them here. I have zero ideas now.”

“Come back tomorrow?”

“Come back tomorrow.”

\---

Sometimes, Pidge doesn’t sleep for days on end, and everyone’s used to that. They’ll have three cups of coffees on the mornings they didn’t sleep and function a little less than usual. They’ll go until they crash, and they’ll crash hard. Sometimes it’s in school and the group takes turns dragging them unconscious to their next class. Then they’ll wake up and the cycle will start over.

It’s normal.

When Hunk doesn’t sleep, for whatever reason, he gets jittery. Coffee doesn’t do anything good for his fried nerves, but he knows that if he doesn’t have it, he’ll sleep through every class.

He’s more paranoid, more nervous than usual. Prone to panicking more and trying to hide it and panicking over trying to hide his panicking. Whether he’s doing it well enough and if people can tell oh what if they can tell what then? Will they look at him weird? Wait what’s this paper about he’s supposed to be paying attention oh god he wasn’t paying attention it’s too late now he’s missed everything important he could learn oh god oh god oh god.

When he doesn’t sleep, it’s usually because of schoolwork. Either he needs to get it done or he’s procrastinated so much that he can’t focus on finishing correctly and stays up all night.

He rambles when he’s nervous, trying to control himself by talking. It’s a coping mechanism that doesn’t really work.

“Pidge! Don’t hit that branch you almost hit that branch. Aren’t you going kind of fast? Does anyone else feel that? Is it just me? It’s just me okay okay that’s okay.”

Lance grabs Hunk’s hand and puts it on his chest, mirroring with his own hand.

“Breathe with me.”

He stutters over air and they start over a few times, but it slows down his brain enough for him to focus a little better. Lance locks eye contact with him.

“Good?”

He nods, not quite trusting himself not to start rambling again.

Lance nods, handing him a slice of pizza. “You didn’t eat anything today. Combat the coffee, my guy.”

He doesn’t realize how hungry he is until he takes a bite. “Oh my god this pizza is so bad but it tastes really good.”

Keith grabs a slice from Lance and leans on Hunk, a comfortable weight. Pidge turns the music down to an almost silent volume and rolls down the windows, clearer air filling the car.

“Guys,” he says, not really sure where he’s going with it.

“We got you covered,” Pidge says from the front, smiling at him from the rearview.

He settles into his seat, less anxious than he’s been all day, surrounded by the people who care about him.

“Thanks,” he says warmly.

“Don’t sweat it, buddy.”

It’s good.

\---

Lance forgets to take care of himself sometimes. He’s too focused on making sure Keith isn’t with his foster family too much. With Pidge remembering to actually eat and sleep once and a while. Assuring himself that Hunk hasn’t overworked himself to the point of panicking.

Himself is the last thing on his mind.

He also just doesn’t want to think about what issues he definitely does _not_ have. Not when his friends have it so much worse than he does.

He goes through these lows that he doesn’t like to call lows. He calls it a Mood. Tries not to let it affect him as much as he knows that it does.

He’s either too talkative or not talkative enough. Everything he says is annoying and unhelpful. He’s grateful to have people that tolerate him in any way for any amount of time.

He’ll isolate himself a little more than usual and won’t reply to any text messages.

It feels like a weight’s settled in the pit of his stomach and won’t move. He’s overly tired and overly energized at the same time. He constantly feels grimy, no matter how hard he scrubs at his face. Everything’s heavy and all focus and motivation goes out the window.

These “Moods” happen more and more often and still Lance pretends that there’s absolutely nothing wrong.

He forgets to eat sometimes, head too fogged to realize he’s actually hungry. Not eating doesn’t help, but what can he do?

Even when they all get pizza together, sometimes he only drinks the soda, getting quieter and quieter every time he thinks about talking. They don’t want to hear what he has to say.

“Lance!”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been asking if you’re alright for like the last five minutes man. You’re super out of it today.”

“Ahaaah yeah I didn’t sleep that well last night. My little brother’s sick and he kept waking me up.”

“Has he been sick all week?”

“What?”

“You’ve been out of it all week.”

“Oh I um, yeah.”

“You know you can talk to us, right?”

“Uh, duh? You’re my best friends, of course I can.”

“Mmm, that’s funny,” Pidge says, pursing their lips. “Because it seems like something’s up and yet here we are, with you saying everything’s fine.”

“That’s because everything is? Nothing bad is going on soooooooo I don’t really get why you’re worried.”

“Have you eaten anything today?”

“Y—,“ Lance stops. He hasn’t, actually, eaten anything today. He grabs a slice of pizza from the box and takes a bite, waving it around. “Yes.”

“Other than the pizza?”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” he takes another bite of pizza, biding his time.

He hears Keith sigh from the backseat and his heart sinks. Of course he’s disappointed in him. Of course of course of course he hasn’t been accommodating enough.

“Lance, you have to take care of yourself.”

“Have you seen my face? It sparkles with how much I take care of myself.”

“Mental health, man. Not just looks,” Hunk says.

“Oh my fucking- I’m fine, okay? I should be asking you guys if you’re alright.”

“You don’t have to have shitty parents to have a shitty brain,” Pidge mutters.

“Um, wow, okay, I’m gonna take a real life personal offence to that comment about my brain because wow guys. Cruel and unusual.”

“You don’t have to have bad stuff happen to you to feel bad is what they’re saying.”

“Well I know that, but I don’t ‘feel bad’ I mean, sure sometimes it feels like I can’t get up in the mornings because I’m a worthless piece of trash, but hey! That happens to everyone, am I right?”

“No,” Hunk says. “Not quite.”

“So what, you all wake up in the morning feeling chipper and smiley, is that what you’re saying?”

“No, Lance—,“

“Because that’s a load of bull. Just because I think everyone hates me doesn’t mean there’s something _wrong_ with me. It’s normal insecurities. I don’t have a shit brain just because I forget I need to eat sometimes or because I don’t do my work sometimes so that I get told that I need to do better just to fuck myself up. I don’t fucking lose interest in everything I love because there’s some screwy part of my head that acts up sometimes, alright? I’m fine, guys. It’s normal teenage shit.”

Keith wraps his arms round the front seat to rub at his shoulders and it’s good and comforting and familiar and Lance lets his breath stutter.

“I’m okay. You guys need way more help than I do, not to sound mean. I’m fine, alright?”

It’s oddly silent and no one answers his question. He sighs and turns the music up a little louder, sticks his hand out the window.

“I’m fine.”

\---

It’s in the little things they do that Lance notices the change. If he has an off day, Hunk will come to school the next day with his favorite food in one hand and mech suit details in the other. Pidge tries not to be as sarcastic with him, and offers him their biggest pair of headphones for when the days get too loud. Keith mumbles affirmations to him whenever he sees a shift, something off, something out of it on his face. Shows him more affection and tries not to let his words get the better of him.

On the worst days, they’ll go home with him, put on some stupid, laughable kid’s movie, and press themselves around him, letting him know that they’re all there.

“Guys,” he tried to say the first time. “This is too much. I told you, I’m alright.”

“You take care of us all too much,” Keith says with his arms wrapped around Lance’s waist. “Let us return the favor.”

He tried so hard to protest, but Pidge pulled out the popcorn packets, and he couldn’t resist.

He’ll deny with his entire being that anything’s off in his brain, that he might have a few, major issues, but sometimes it’s nice to be taken care of.

**Author's Note:**

> I would like you ll to know this is heavily fucking based on my friend group  
> We had a squad called the pizza squad bc after drama club and after school wed all get together in my friend's car and she didn't (still doesnt) have a license nd was the youngest of the group and yet the only one that could drive.  
> fucking  
> i dont do these memers justice  
> also im kinda proud of this fic its the first one ive like that ive written in a while :))))))


End file.
